


gr8tracks

by sordes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dancing, First Kiss, M/M, Pining, Second-Hand Embarrassment, brotherhood era, hello run-on sentences
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-08 18:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13464348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sordes/pseuds/sordes
Summary: Collection of shorts inspired by some funky beats.Rating/tags will be updated as needed.





	1. My Type

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/IyVPyKrx0Xo

Why the higher ups insisted on not letting this passé relic die was completely beyond Ignis.

He was standing in the corner of the gymnasium, sandwiched between two other trainees, sipping from a glass of punch. Most of them were in their twenties now, the hormones and laughably low self-esteem from their teenage years now mellowed out, and the childish desire to pair off and shove their tongues down each other’s throats in public a distant (and uncomfortable) memory.

And yet, Ignis found himself at the annual Crownsguard trainee mixer, checking his watch every minute or so, waiting until it was socially acceptable for him to depart.

The other trainees didn’t seem to be enjoying themselves either. Though the lights were dimmed and music was playing, no one was dancing. Everyone seemed content to cling to the walls and talk softly amongst themselves, thinking themselves either too cool, or too self-conscious, to enjoy the event.

Well, everyone except for one foolhardy trainee, it seemed.

Ignis’ eyes trailed Gladio as he cut through the center of the empty gym, a cool and confident smile playing across his lips. It only took him a few quick strides to reach his destination—the ‘DJ station’ (aka someone’s phone hooked up to the speaker system)—but to Ignis it felt like Gladio was walking underwater, his movements slowed, deliberate, enabling him to take in every detail Gladio’s tight fitting pants were able to reveal.

Ignis drank in Gladio’s profile, his brow drawn together slightly, as he scrolled through the song selection. The very tip of his tongue snuck out between his lips, he was so lost in his concentration, and though Ignis took a few sips of his punch to distract himself from the sight, the sweet drink did little to quench his thirst.

Finally Gladio seemed to settle on something and the current downbeat song cut to an abrupt end. Trainees that hadn’t noticed were glancing over now, perhaps wondering if the mixer had mercifully cut short. Gladio set the phone down and began to move back to the center of the gym, just the soft sound of a record turning coming from the speakers.

Ignis assumed Gladio would just find his spot against the wall again. That he just didn’t care for the song that was playing. But as he reached the center of the gym, with each trainees’ eyes on him, the trumpets kicked in.

They were funky, upbeat, and quickly followed by the bass and drums. It was infectious, lively—but it didn’t end there.

Ignis’ eyes were glued on Gladio, who had stopped dead in the center of the space. His face grew hot as his eyes roved down from his friend’s rugged features and found his tight ass again—only now it was gyrating to the beat. _Holy shit the man was dancing._

The rest of the crowed seemed to likewise be in shock, and if not for the booming trumpets and drumbeat, Ignis was sure he’d be able to hear a pin drop.

It seemed that Ignis, and the others, were feeling every drop of embarrassment Gladio _should have_ been feeling, though he should zero sign of stopping. Gladio seemed to move without a care in the world, hips rolling and gyrating, head lolling side to side, even a bit of footwork, rotating himself in a slow circle as the chorus kicked in.

Ignis was a second away from leaving, the sight of Gladio making a fool of himself too much to take—but the second passed and Ignis was left thinking, _he’s not half bad, actually,_ instead.

To Ignis’ shock, the others seemed to be thinking just the same thing. One by one they filtered onto the impromptu dance floor, grinning and dancing around like the carefree teens and young adults they were deep down and underneath the uniform.

Emboldened by the company, Gladio kicked his moves up a notch, and Ignis couldn’t help but stare at his ass as it swung back and forth. Gladio gave a few trainees a spin or a twirl here, laughed as he grinded with a few or was ground on. He had zero care if he looked ridiculous, he was just having fun.

Ignis’ eyes flitted to the gymnasium exit, now free of any bodies blocking the way, but they came back to Gladio in the midst of everything.

_You only live once._

Ignis downed the rest of his punch in one gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he deposited the empty cup into one of the trash receptacles. With his best mask of confidence resting on his face, Ignis strode directly to Gladio, only allowing himself a slight twist or turn here to avoid the random dancing trainee.

Gladio’s face lit up when Ignis was before him, his moves not faltering for a moment.

“I didn’t think you danced!” Gladio shouted over the music.

“To the right song, I do,” Ignis yelled back, smiling despite himself.

Gladio wrapped an arm around Ignis’ side, his hand finding the small of his back, and pulled him close. Ignis froze up at first, but quickly found the beat, and began to rock his hips in time with the music and Gladio.

The heat on his face all but forgotten, Ignis laughed out loud. Grinning, Gladio’s hand on his back found Ignis’ arm and he gave him a spin. As Ignis came back to his starting point, Gladio let go, releasing him, and before Ignis could try and grab him again, Gladio was already dancing with someone else.

Though a little put out at the short-lived nature of their dance, Ignis couldn’t stay mad with this song playing. Or with the sight of Gladio’s gyrating ass in those tight pants before him. He might regret dancing like an idiot like this later, but for the time being he was content just to stop overthinking and bop alongside Gladio.


	2. I Wanna Be with U

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/ZFVYiLGjQlc

By the Six it’s now or never and Ignis knows if he stops walking now, if he hesitates even in the slightest, or heaven forbid even slows down, he’ll stop dead in his tracks, turn on his heel, and make a hasty retreat. No, keep the momentum—keep moving forward. He dodges slow walkers in the hall, skirts around groups of Crownsguard in conversation, even ducks under a rather ungainly box as two trainees emerge from an office and directly into Ignis’ path. Ignis feels like he’s the hero in one of those over the top action movies that seem to be all the rage as of late, as if he’s this unstoppable force. On the other hand, he also feels like he’s marching to the gallows, about to come careening into the immovable object.

If he slows, he stops. If he hesitates, he reneges. If he makes another excuse, Gladio might just slip through his fingers. _So keep moving, one foot ahead of the other, and again, and again._ Heart impossibly loud in his ears, Ignis swears he can hear every harried _thump thump_ it makes and his palms—his palms are slippery and clammy and sweet Shiva, Ignis is grateful he’s wearing gloves, as while they do absolutely nothing to alleviate an ounce of the discomfort, at least they do mask the symptoms of his nerves. He arrives all too soon, speeding down the hall at that pace, and _fuck_ as his hand finds the doorknob to Gladio’s office Ignis allows just one of those crazy invasive thoughts to creep into his consciousness, screaming at him to _abort mission, turn back, get ahold of himself_. But it’s too late, his hand is on the knob and it twists, the door pushes in and Ignis just reacts.

Moving completely on impulse, Ignis doesn’t falter as Gladio rises from his desk. Worry paints his features—why would Ignis show up unannounced and out of the blue with such a grim expression if something weren’t horribly wrong? But Ignis doesn’t have any spare room in his brain right now to worry about that, every part of him is focused on putting one foot in front of the other and _gods forbid_ not tripping and falling flat on his face and doing what he should have done months ago— _years ago_.

Ignis rounds Gladio’s paper covered desk, his gloved hands already moving up and, really, Gladio should react quicker, should push Ignis back, should question the sudden invasion of his office and his personal space, but he doesn’t. He’s wide open and Ignis brings a hand to either side of Gladio’s face, and again, _Astrals_ , Ignis can’t help but marvel in the split second before their lips collide at just how unguarded Gladio is.

Ignis half pulls Gladio’s face down to his, half juts his face upward, and they meet in the middle. Ignis crushes his eyes shut at some point, but he can feel the surprise in Gladio’s body, the current running between them like a livewire. It’s quick and dirty; Ignis pulls back after a second to see Gladio staring stunned at him. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. The kiss follows the same principle, only now Ignis had made it here and he’s kissed him and—

It’s all Ignis can do to stop himself from kissing Gladio again.

So he doesn’t stop himself.

Ignis kisses Gladio again.

Their lips crush together and it’s deeper the second time. Ignis can feel Gladio warming to him, and hey—it’s not a rejection, so really, Ignis is over the moon. Hell—Gladio even tries to grab Ignis’ hips and it startles him. The contact seems to rouse that diminished capacity to fret and worry in Ignis’ brain and he pulls back, their lips reluctantly parting, but a second look at Gladio’s dumbstruck, and clearly interested, face just makes Ignis laugh.

It’s a bright and crisp laugh, part bark, even, and Ignis can’t believe that A. he went through with it and B. Gladio didn’t take a swing at him. He steps back—he doesn’t have a brilliant follow up to his plan. Gladio reaches for him, it’s playful, like he’s trying to pull him back in and maybe even kiss him again. Ignis’ brain short functioning, he just laughs and steps back out of reach, Gladio’s fingertips catching air. Ignis doesn’t know what to say so he just shakes his head ‘no’ and continues to evade Gladio’s arms, but boy does he wonder what might happen if he lets himself get caught.

But his legs are back on autopilot and Ignis is back at the door before he knows what’s happening and though Gladio follows, Ignis is so amped up on adrenaline in raw elation that he’s halfway down the crowded hall before Gladio can stop him from running.

Looks like he didn’t need a plan B after all, but Ignis realizes, as he allows himself to look back just once and sees Gladio leaning out from his office—that same mix of confusion and surprise and hell, maybe even joy, on his face—that he has to see Gladio tomorrow during once of their usual Noctis hand-over’s, and it’s all Ignis can do to grip the hand railing to his right as he nearly bowls down the flight of stairs that have seemingly manifested out of nowhere beneath his feet.

Alright, so maybe he should have come up with a contingency plan. But even nearly breaking his neck does little to truly dampen Ignis’ mood. After something so monumental, something _so many years_ in the making, how could Ignis be anything but euphoric?


End file.
